


Cats and Dogs

by akire_yta



Series: prompt ficlets [215]
Category: Jeeves & Wooster, powergeneration
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:10:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akire_yta/pseuds/akire_yta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt ficathon - cosmictuesdays wanted 'Gimme something in Power Generation. I need my "superpowers are a pain in the ass" fix.'  [part of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/920510"> this verse</a>]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cats and Dogs

Normally, country house parties were not this dramatic.  But when one puts one’s Aunt Agatha in close proximity to The Cat just in time for the sky to turn on the waterworks and ensures everyone is cooped up for the duration, then the sparks are certain to fly.

And for once, it was not Aunt Agatha herself who was the proverbial spanner in the works.  Rather, it was Aunt Agatha’s toy spaniel, Reginald, who was the cause of all that pained me.

As the thunder drew closer, and Jeeves swept up the shattered vase and the remains of the curtains, I gave up on reasoning with The Cat and turned the Wooster powers of persuasion on the wee chap.  “Reginald, I say, show some decorum man…well, pup.”

Reginald turned up his pert little snout.  “Mistress detests the creature.  She belongs outside, in the barn, not in the house.”

I gave the wreckage of the guest room a meaningful old squizz.  The hound had the grace to look decidedly sheepish.  “Class,” I lectured the small bean sharply, channeling the manner and tone of the old Beak from my Malvern days.  “Can be measured in how you treat other, whether they be man, dog, or The Cat.”

“No!”  Reginald was a yapper, and I could see Jeeves wince slightly with each high-pitched bark.  “It must go.”

Any subsequent argument fell on deaf ears, but at least my attempts at persuasion gave The Cat room to shoot up the chimney.  At which point Jeeves, showing that uncanny ability to cut right to the heart of the matter, stepped in and scruffed the pup, hauling him out hopefully to the barn.  Over the yaps of protest, I was sure I heard the domestic staff giving the dog the old standing ovation sendoff.

Jeeves returned moments later, a tad damp about the shoulders and hairy about the cuffs.  “Nicely done, old bean,” I told him, pouring us both a stiff measure from the brandy decanter.  It was a measure of Jeeves’ distraction that he took the proffered glass and tossed it back like it was a tonic.

“I may not be as conversant as you, sir, in these matters, but I feel that Reginald is…”

“A tough egg?” I offered as Jeeves cast about in that big brain of  his for the right word.

Jeeves smiled and poured me a second measure.  “Or something a little stronger.”


End file.
